A Valentine in the Water
by MilkMamaReturns
Summary: THIS IS A SPOILER-BASED FIC. After a case of 'twisted love' and lots of bickering, Booth and Brennan share their first kiss on Valentine's Day. Just changed the rating to T for some language. Better safe than sorry. ;
1. Introduction, Theories, Spoilers

Introduction

This is possibly a new genre of fanfic lol... This story is what I call a "spoiler fic", so **STOP READING IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ SPOILERS FOR THIS SEASON OF BONES!**

Assumptions

I've made a few assumptions for this season, which have led me to write this fic, as theories have whirled in my brain since reading a few. The following are the spoilers that this fanfic story is based on: **1.** Brennan and Booth will kiss for real this season.

The following are the assumptions_ based on_ actual spoilers for this season. **1.** Booth and Brennan will almost kiss during the Fire on the Ice episode. **2.** Booth will date Agent Payton Perotta. **3.** Booth and Brennan will kiss for real during February Sweeps (Valentines Day episode!)


	2. Part I

**Part I**

Brennan knocked on Booth's door. After the third knock, she squatted and picked up the fake rock and took the spare key out.

Before she could put the key in, the door swung open and two familiar eyes peaked out. However, those eyes did not belong to Agent Booth, but the beautiful, blue eyed, blond bombshell Agent Payton Perotta. "Dr. Brennan," the woman greeted with a slight New York accent. "Why don't you come in?"

Brennan straightened unconsciously and walked in past the woman who wore only a robe.

"What brings you here?" She glanced at her watch. "It's only six."

"Uh.."

Before her mind could clear, Booth came out of the bathroom in a towel with moist hair, "Hey, Bones."

"Booth," Brennan glanced between Perotta and Booth. It had never occurred to her how she and Booth's interactions should be handled when he was dating. Booth had had dates, but Perotta had been his girlfriend for a little over two months by then. It was clear that things had changed between Booth and Brennan. Things were more stilted and professional. Late night drinks or talks about sex were kept to a minimum. "You turned off your cell."

"Did I?" He glanced over at Payton who blushed slightly, most likely over the night before's memory.

"I'll just--" Payton gestured toward the bedroom, then took her leave.

"Cullen call?" Booth asked.

"Yes," Brennan replied. Why was it so difficult to concentrate when that man was shirtless? "A body was washed through a storm drain. The remains are skeletal, so..."

After a moment of awkward silence, Booth finally came to his senses, realizing that he was standing in nothing but a towel in front of his partner. "Right. OK. Just give me a sec and I'll get dressed."

"Fine," she replied quickly.

"Good." Booth walked out of the room, leaving a thoughtful look on Brennan's face, much like the same thoughtful look that Inspector Pritchard left on her face the previous summer.


	3. Part II

**Part II**

Booth and Brennan were driving as a cold February snow began to fall on the windshield. They had been driving in silence for several minutes.

"Cam is going to meet us," Brennan murmured.

Booth looked over at Brennan. "That's good."

"She's bringing Mr. Bray."

Booth looked over at her with a hint of a smile on his lips. "Finally letting the interns tag along, are we?"

She sat up a little straighter, almost defensively, "I figure that... Zack may never come back." Compassion etched Booth's features as he looked at his partner. "So, I should let my interns see what I do more extensively. Work on the cases more intimately."

"I think that's a good idea," Booth said softly.

"Speaking of intimate," Brennan said, finally seeing the opening for the conversation she'd been dying to have with Booth. "How is your relationship with Agent Perotta going?"

Booth winced, "Look, Bones, I don't wanna talk about it right now."

"What? I'm happy for you, Booth," Brennan said, smiling widely.

"Well, thanks, Bones, but I still don't wanna talk about it."

"How long have you two been sleeping together?"

Booth looked sharply over at Brennan. "That's none of your business."

"We're partners, Booth. And I told you about when I slept with Sully."

"That was information I didn't care to be privy to."

"But I let you be privy to it because... I care... for you."

Booth glanced over at Brennan, his expression softened. "A week or two now."

Brennan nodded, "Do you have any plans for Valentine's Day?"

Booth looked uncomfortable and gripped the steering wheel tighter. "I haven't really thought about it. Does dinner sound too corny?"

"It's a tad cliche, but it sounds nice. Maybe you could take her dancing?"

Booth smiled weakly, then sighed, "Payton works Saturday."

"Oh. Perhaps you should take her to dinner on Friday?" Booth pursed his lips in response. "Sunday? Monday?"

Booth laughed lightly. "I've never done this, you know?"

"No. I don't know."

"I've never dated another agent before. Our schedules both depend on cases and how they're going."

"Then perhaps you should just make her a romantic dinner at home?"

Booth smiled as they pulled onto the 895 toward Delaware. "That's not a bad idea, Bones. Hey, what about you?"

"You want me to cook?" Brennan asked, confused.

"No. I mean, what are you doing on Saturday?"

"I was contemplating going to Wong Foo's."

"Ah," Booth nodded with a grin. "The Twelfth Annual Kiss N Tell?"

Brennan smiled, "I decided that I should go out rather than stay in. I won't be the only single woman at the bar."

"Angela's going with you?"

"I invited her, but as it turns out she and Hodgins are going to dinner."

"Together?" Booth asked with a raised brow.

"I know. It's ridiculous. One minute they want one another, then next they're platonic. I just don't understand it. Although, I did get the impression that it's _just_ dinner."

Booth contemplated that, but it was easy to see on his face that he didn't believe that it actually would be just dinner. He was the King of Justs. Just friends. Just dinner. Just partners. He knew better.


	4. Part III

**Part III**

Cam smiled with one hand lifted to block the sun from her eyes. Booth and Brennan parked on the side of the road beside an ambulance. Several police vehicles kept the right side of the road blocked off. Private citizens drove by slowly, curiously, trying to catch a glance at a body, blood, or other horrors.

Cam and Wendell Bray walked over to meet Booth and Brennan. They were dressed in wet suits, minus the masks so they could breathe fresh air.

"What do we have here, Cam?" Booth asked as they walked toward the Forensics van where Brennan sat on the edge and began to take off her boots and socks.

"Wendell and I have already made a dive, but I didn't want to touch the remains until Dr. Brennan got here."

"Thank you," Brennan said.

"Apparently, the storm drain that connects to the canal became clogged, so city workers suited up and got a little surprise."

"They swam in human sludge?" Booth raised a brow.

"It's not as bad as you'd think it would be," Wendell said. "Hey, nice to see ya again, Agent Booth."

Booth grinned and patted the guy on the back, "Nice to see you again, too." Wendell was one of the few interns that didn't make him want to snack on dynamite.

"How's the girlfriend?" Wendell asked.

"Good. Hey, let's talk about corpses, huh?"

"Sure."

"Yes, let's talk about the case at hand," Brennan cut into the conversation as she stood and finished unbuttoning her shirt. She stood in her camisole in the freezing air.

"Bones, aren't you cold?" Booth couldn't help but to let his eyes wander just a little bit. Yes. Obviously she was cold.

She smiled after catching where his eyes had gone. "I won't be in a second." She unzipped her jeans.

Wendell's eyes grew wide. He couldn't risk a sexual harassment accusation from his boss, so he quickly skedaddled.

"Bones!" Booth said, taking his jacket off and holding it up as a curtain for Brennan.

"Relax, Booth. I'm wearing bike shorts beneath my jeans."

Booth hesitated, then lowered his jacket and put it back on. Brennan indeed had black spandex shorts on beneath her jeans. She was bending over, cleavage was easily seen from beneath her black camisole. With that, Booth turned and gave her a little privacy as she sat back down and slid her legs into the wetsuit. Brennan smiled to herself while Booth fought an internal emotional war. He cared deeply for Payton, right? Just like he cared deeply for Brennan, but in a different way. It was different, right? _Right??_

"You can turn around now, Booth."

He did turn around just as she she finished zipping the wetsuit up. "You look good, Bones," He chuckled.

Brennan cocked her head to the side, "Few people look good in neoprene."

"I--I meant it, Bones. So, how about that floater?"

Brennan walked past him, ignoring the looking good comment, which was convoluted anyway. They walked to the edge of the canal where other divers were standing, conversing, shivering.

"Would you like to do the honors, Dr. Brennan?" Cam asked.

Brennan nodded and squatted beside the canal. She tested the waters for a moment and considered the best point of entry. At long last, she sat beside the canal's edge and put her feet in. The Delaware Chesapeake Canal was more of a river than a canal, lined with soil and rocks, but this partcular part was lined in concrete to support the storm drain that met the waters.

Booth jogged past a few people and held out his hand, "Let me help you, Bones."

She hesitated for a moment. That hand belonged to Agent Perotta, right? Not that anybody could own a man or his hand, but still... Then there was that other thought. Would she have hesitated to take his hand if he wasn't dating Agent Perotta? If their relationship wasn't so serious? Would she take it if she was jealous? She wasn't jealous. Not she. She held out her hand and he gripped her neoprene glove firmly, squatting beside the canal and helping her lower herself slowly into the icy water.

She swam over to where Cam was pointing, then dunked beneath the water. Even with the cold-water wetsuit on, she still felt her body lower several degrees as she sank below the surface. Thanks to the winter weather, the water was crisp and clear. She followed the perpendicular concrete wall until she came to the opening of the storm sewer. It was grated off to catch debris, but it was easy to see a skeletal hand drifting eerily in the water. The rest of the body was most likely there, however distorted by leaves, debris, sticks, and trash. The grate was partially opened, two bolts were missing. Most likely evidence of how quickly the city workers had hot-footed it out of the canal. She carefully moved the grate to the side and reached in, moving leaves and garbage to the side gently. The refuse released and drifted into the water, revealing more of the skeleton. A skull, another radius, ulna and phalanges combo. A femur.

She swam back up to the surface, taking her mask off as she reached the air.

"Human?" Cam asked.

"Definitely human. Male. A lot of debris is blocking my view, so we'll have to remove the victim before I can say anything definitive." That was the cue for the FBI dive team to pull on their masks and lower themselves into the water.


	5. Part IV

**Part IV**

"No teeth," Cam said aloud as she, Wendell, Brennan, Angela, and Hodgins stood around the corpse. It was mostly skeletonized, but meaty tissue still clung to the bones in grayish pink clumps. "That makes identification fun."

"I don't know about fun. It actually makes it a little more difficult," Brennan replied.

"I call that one hyperbole, Dr. Brennan."

"Oh." Then she turned her attention to the skull. "Hairline fractures to the mandible."

"Fractures on the phalanges of the right hand," said Wendell.

Hodgins laughed, "That guy got schooled."

Brennan scrunched her brow. "There's no way we can tell what kind of education the victim had."

"It means he got into a fight. You know," Hodgins held up his fists and threw a few faux punches at Wendell's jaw. "He got told Old School."

"In that case, our victim is right handed, which concurs with the bone markers."

"Occupational markers suggest that he did a lot of heavy lifting, squatting, standing, climbing... He probably had a lot of pain in his knees," Wendell said.

Brennan smiled at him. "You're doing a good job, Mr. Bray."

"Big, strong, right handed, got in a fight, went for a swim and never came back..." Angela mused.

"There's no evidence that he went for a swim. Considering the placement of the body behind the filtering grate, he was most likely placed a storm sewer post-mortem," Brennan corrected.

Cam gave her a strange look. Brennan was sure on a roll with correcting and being overly precise... a thing she once practiced when breaking in interns. So who or what was she breaking in this time?

Booth slid his card and hopped onto the platform. Brennan quickly looked up, then as quickly as she looked up, she redirected her glance back at the skeleton. A glance that Cam and Angela caught. Both women smiled to themselves and looked back down at the skeleton. "I'll just take what's left of the liver," Cam said.

"As long as it's not for dinner, Cam." Booth grinned. "Bones. Any ID yet?"

Brennan didn't look up. "Not yet."

Sensing the coldness of her voice, Booth shrugged and walked over to Angela. "What's wrong with her?"

Angela raised a brow sarcastically, fluttered her eyes, and said, "You should know." Although she said that, the tone and look said something more along the lines of: 'You should know that. Being Mister Dr. Brennan and all?'

Booth made a grunting noise and followed Cam out of the lab and into the morgue room. Brennan's eyes followed him as he left, then went back to her work.

Booth watched in silence as Cam weighed the decayed liver, bits of spleen, and part of a heart and lung.

Cam decided to take pity on him after a few minutes, "What's wrong, Booth?"

Booth sighed, "Nothing."

Cam eyed him for a second, then decided to let it drop as he had. "Angela should have a sketch soon."

"I just hate this, you know?"

Cam raised an eyebrow, then smiled and played coy, "Hate what?"

"This tension... between me and Bones."

"What do you suppose is causing that tension, then?" Cam asked as she transferred--more like poured--a putrified organ into a new container.

Booth scrunched his nose. "I don't know. Things just have been different since..."

"Since what?"_ Since you've started dating Agent Blondie?_

"I--honestly don't know."

"You don't?" Cam asked disbelievingly.

Booth smiled and walked over to her, grimacing at the gray-green thing she was weighing. "Last December, actually."

Cam paused at the tone in his voice and looked up at him.

"We... almost kissed."

"Almost?"

Booth sighed, "Yeah. Well, the fact is, we didn't kiss. And things have been like this ever since. Stiff. Different. Maybe it freaked her out."

"What about Agent Perotta?" Interesting that he hadn't made that particular connection yet.

Booth chuckled wryly. "Brennan actually encouraged me to ask her out. And what the hell was I supposed to do? I thought she was pushing away, which is fine. I kinda expected that. But it turns out that I really liked--like--Payton... I don't think that's what it is."

Cam put down her tray and smiled at Booth. "Dr. Brennan is a woman first, scientist second. Just remember that." She turned and walked away to start on the tox screen.


	6. Part V

**Part V**

"OK, I think I have a pretty good sketch. Whaddya think?" Angela turned the sketch pad around for Brennan to see.

Brennan looked up, glanced, then looked back down. "It looks nice, Ange, but Mr. Bray is still working on the tissue markers. I've yet to approve them."

Angela suppressed the urge to roll her eyes as she dropped the notepad to her side and walked over to Brennan's desk where she took a seat next to her. She simply looked at Brennan for several silent seconds until Brennan looked up, feeling her friend's eyes boring into her skull. "What?"

"Just tell me what's up, Bren."

"The ceiling," Brennan replied coolly.

This time Angela did roll her eyes. "_Seriously_, sweetie. I don't know what's wrong with you any more." She stood abruptly.

Brennan followed her friend with curious eyes as Angela stood. "I don't know what you mean by that, Ange."

"That. That's what I'm talking, sweetie. The overly-preciseness. Always correcting and nit-picking. Under estimating. Saying that you don't know what I mean." Angela took a second to breathe. "Whenever you're ready to talk, sweetie, I'll be here. Like always. Waiting for your subconscious to catch up with you." With that, Angela walked out of the office, passing Wendell as he entered the office with skull in hand.

"Dr. Brennan?"

Brennan blinked, trying to come back to reality. "Yes, Mr. Bray?"

"I've finished with the tissue markers. I was wondering if you could approve them for me?"

"Technically, I'm just reviewing them..." Brennan began, but then she caught herself. She was doing that. Correcting, nit picking, being overly precise. "Bring it here, please."

Wendell brought the skull over to her. Brennan examined it for several anxious seconds. Wendell brought up a chair and sat beside Dr. Brennan.

Brennan looked over at Wendell, obviously thinking about something other than tissue markers.

"What, Dr. Brennan?" Wendell asked.

"Have you... Never mind." Brennan looked back at the skull. After quickly thinking it over, she looked back up at a very anxious Wendell Bray. "Have you--not to sound sophomoric, but, have you ever dated a colleague?"

Wendell laughed nervously, a high pitched _hee_ sound, "I-I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan, but did you just ask me-?"

Brennan shifted for a second thoughtfully as she studied the 'human remains' of the young man in front of her. "I only ask because you are a man and I am a woman--"

"Dr. Brennan, please."

Brennan stopped to study his face curiously, then, "In being a female, there are certain things I don't understand about males and their sexual thirsts. Are they the same or different than those of women? Can dating your coworker actually work out?"

Wendell searched for a way out, then he remembered Angela's advice, "Dr. Brennan, I hope you won't hate me for saying that I think you're being a little inappropriate here."

Brennan paused, then spoke more thoughtfully, "I apologize, Mr. Bray. I can see how that could have been taken out of context."

Wendell sighed. "Thanks."

Brennan handed him back the skull. "These markers look accurate."

"Thanks, Dr. Brennan." Wendell grabbed the skull and was out of there before anything more could be exchanged between the two of them.

* * *

_Thanks for the reviews! I've noticed some people wanted to know where I found the spoilers. If you just leave a comment and ask, I will PM you the websites. :D_


	7. Part VI

**Part VI**

"Lunch?" Booth asked from the doorway of Brennan's office.

She looked up for a fraction of a second, fought an internal war for another fraction, then smiled slightly, "Let me grab my purse."

"My treat," Booth grinned.

She stood silently, the tenseness between them could have been snapped with a butter knife. She grabbed her jacket and began to put it on. Booth took several steps ahead. "Let me help you." He didn't wait for approval, he just helped her anyway, sliding the jacket up her arms an onto her shoulders.

At lunch, Booth was the first to break the silence.

"The body could've washed through the storm sewer anywhere along the lines."

"How long do the lines stretch?" Brennan asked as she stabbed at a cherry tomato.

"Eighty miles through Delaware and Maryland," Booth said. They were both glad to have work to fill the conversation.

"So, basically we're waiting on an ID from Angela's facial reconstruction."

"Yeah," Booth replied as he eyed Brennan.

"Are there any outstanding missing persons reports?"

"Already did all of the footwork, Bones. There are about three hundred and twenty of those things."

"But what about men? Thirty-five to forty-five?"

"About seventy-five."

"That narrows it down," Brennan replied sarcastically.

"Tell me about it," Booth grinned at her, then pushed his plate a few inches toward her."Fry?"

She hesitated,then reached for a fry.


	8. Part VII

**Part VII**

That night, Cam walked up to Hodgins' work area. "What do you have for me, Dr. Hodgins?"

"What does this look like?" Hodgins asked, pushing the microscope closer to her.

Cam paused for a second, then looked through the microscope. She looked at Hodgins questioningly. "What about it?"

"You're gonna love this."

Cam raised her eyebrows.

"Er... I'm gonna love this. Anyway, the base of the victim's jeans had particulates from oil, urine, detergents, solvents, various chemicals, and pitch. What does that mean?"

Cam blinked. "I don't know. Why don't you tell me."

Hodgins crossed both arms. "I don't know. I was serious when I asked what that means."

"Is this why you called me over here?"

Hodgins shrugged. "Hey, I just figured that it could help. Maybe you could tell Booth?"

"I'm not the teacher and this isn't nursery school, Dr. Hodgins, so pick up the phone and call him yourself." Cam turned and walked off the platform.

Hodgins sighed and picked up the phone on his desk. After a few rings, instead of Booth picking up, Perotta picked it up. "Agent Booth's Phone," she said cheerily.

"Uh..." Hodgins squeaked. Then he cleared his throat, "H--Hello. This is Dr. Hodgins. Is Booth around?"

"One second." Payton opened the bedroom door in time to see Booth pull a tee shirt over his head. She paused and smiled at him, eyeing him like a starving dog eyes a t-bone steak.

Booth smiled and walked toward her, pulling her into his arms and kissing her lips. "What?" He muttered against her lips.

"Phone," Perotta held out the phone.

Booth went pale. "Who is it?"

"Dr. Hodgins."

The color came back to his cheeks and he took the phone. "Hey, Hodgins."

On the other line, Hodgins had been putting together why Brennan had been so irritable and fastidious lately. "I looked at the base of the victim's jeans and they had particulates from oil, urine, detergents, solvents, chemicals, and pitch."

"And what's that mean?" He asked just as his girlfriend's arms slipped around his waist from behind. Hodgins heard him kissing her finger tips.

"I--I don't know. I've thought about it and one thing that makes sense is that he works at sea. Like a merchant seaman."

Booth snickered.

"That's S-E-A-M-A-N."

"I know. Hey, thanks, man."

"He could work as a sewage inspector or... he cleans bathrooms."

"That... really narrows it down." Booth hung up, turned and began to kiss Payton passionately.

Hodgins glared at the phone. Then he said in a mocking voice, "You're a genius, Hodgins. I wish I had three doctorates, too. You're _indispensable_!"

Angela laughed from behind him.

Hodgins turned around to glare at her, too.

"I think you're a few fries short of a Happy Meal, there, sweetie."

Hodgins' glare softened as he remembered the new information, "I think I might know why Dr. B's been chewing our heads off lately."

Angela smiled and sat beside him. "Why?"

"I called Booth's phone and a certain beautiful agent answered."

Angela just looked at him. No glimmer of realization.

"Perotta."

Her eyes grew a bit wider. "Oh... Kinda makes you wonder how often Agent Perkytits answers the cell."

"I'm sure _once _is enough," he answered.

"Wanna grab some dinner?"

"You're buying, right?" Hodgins stood up beside her.

Angela just laughed at him as they walked out of the lab.


	9. Part VIII

**Part VIII**

"Angela couldn't get an ID?" Booth asked as he stood next to Brennan's bedroom door.

On the other side, Brennan pulled up her slacks and slid her feet into a pair of calf-high boots. "You can come in now." Brennan said. Any other time, she would have been happy to let him stay on the other side of the door, but this time she tried to keep from psychoanalyzing herself and the invitation.

Booth turned the handle and stood in the doorway, silently watching as Brennan walked to the other side of the room and picked out a jacket from the closet. "Not from the NCIC, anyway. However, from Hodgins' list of possible careers of the victim, we were able to determine, both from bone markers and particulates that he was most likely a merchant seaman."

Booth snickered.

"Merchant Sea _Worker_," Brennan clarified, making a mental note to use that phrase instead of the other one. "Which led me to a list of sea--workers who hadn't shown up for duty."

They walked toward the front door, Booth handed her a coffee. In the SUV, the conversation continued.

"We compared photo IDs to Angela's 3D rendering." Brennan pulled a file from her laptop bag and handed it over to Booth. "Graham Herman, 38, third assistant engineer on the Our Lady of the Potomac."

Booth reached over and grabbed the file.

"You should keep your eye on the road, Booth."

"I can drive, Bones."

"You're making me extremely nervous."

"I'm an excellent double-tasker, Bones."

"Maybe I should drive, Booth."

"I can do this. I can read, I can drive."

"I think you're being--"

Booth cut her off, "Who's the sniper-trained FBI Agent here, Bones? Who?"

"I doubt they taught you to drive _and _read in the FBI!"

"My eyesight is excellent, as is my peripheral vision!"

"Who's being the Rainman _now_, Booth!?"

They stared at each other for a few seconds, both feeling anger course through their veins.

Finally, Booth decided to take another route. "Let's go check out Herman's place."

"Fine," Brennan replied shortly.

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Fine." Booth replied again shortly.


	10. Part IX

** Part IX**

The SUV stopped in front of a modest bungalow in a DC suburb. The yard was spotless, with the exception of three red and black adult size bicycles in the front yard. They looked at one another for a moment. It had been a long, silent drive.

"It... looks nice," Booth remarked.

Brennan rolled her eyes and got out of the SUV.

Booth, scrunching his brow, speed-walked around to the other side. He stood in front of her, hands on his hips. "What was that about, Bones?"

"What was _what _about?" Brennan replied calmly, naively.

"You know what I was talking about. That eye-roll when I said this place looks nice."

Brennan crossed her arms. She wasn't always so snippy, but something about Booth nowadays made her want to chew his head off and spit it out. "It just figures that you would think it looks nice."

"What's that supposed to mean, Bones?" He took another step closer. Not being one to be walked all over, she took a step into him, closing the negative air space.

"Somebody like you. Some place like this. It's so domestic. It figures that you'd like a place like this."

Booth narrowed his eyes at her. "And what does it matter if I like places like this? Who doesn't want to settle down and live in a little white house with Fisher Price toys in the front yard? --Oh yeah. YOU." Booth turned and walked up the walk, leaving Brennan behind.

By the time Brennan recovered and ran to meet Booth, the door was open. "Can I help you?" The woman behind it was in her early thirties. She was a tall woman, close to five foot eleven, with blond hair and bright blue eyes.

Booth showed his badge. "I'd like to ask a few questions about Graham Herman."

A worried expression painted her face, "Yes, of course. Come right in. "

She ushered them into a large sitting room. It was clean with the exception of an X-Box and two black cords that snaked across the floor to controllers on the opposite couch.

"I'm sorry. My--step-son was playing here. Just let me..." She put the controllers away with nervous hands that shook.

She sat down on the edge of a La-Z-Boy recliner.

Brennan watched as she tucked the shaking hands between her thighs.

"My name is Special Agent Seeley Booth. This is my _partner_ Dr. Temperance Brennan. And who are you?"

"Rhonda Herman. Graham's my husband. Did something happen to him? Did the ship go down?" She looked between the two, then her eyes began to water. "Oh, G-d. He's gone, isn't he?"

Brennan looked to Booth, then back at Rhonda. "We found remains--"

The sobbing grew louder as Rhonda hid her face in her hands.

"We're not certain yet if they are your husband's, but if we could have a photograph or... DNA if possible. Hair from a brush?" Brennan said.

"Do you have children?" Booth asked.

Rhonda sobbed and wiped her nose, composing herself. "Yes. Lane is Graham's son. My step-son."

"That's perfect..." Brennan's eagerness was short-lived when she caught a look from Booth's eye. "As far as a DNA comparison goes."

"I apologize for coming here as we did." Booth said.

Rhonda crossed the room and took a photo album from the shelf, then handed it to Brennan.

Brennan opened the photo album. Pictures of Rhonda with Graham, happy, smiling. Pictures of Rhonda and Lane, smiling, hugging. Graham and Lane, Lane and Rhonda. Rhonda and Graham. "Can I borrow this?" Brennan asked.

Rhonda paused, then said, "Yes. Anything that will help you."

"When was the last time you saw Graham?" Booth asked.

Rhonda seemed to search her memory, then stood and walked over to a calendar. She thumbed through it then turned. "Seven months ago. Seven and a half. Give or take."

Brennan and Booth exchanged suspicious looks. "And you never reported him missing?" Brennan asked.

"Graham's work takes him away from home nine months out of the year. It's not unusual to not hear from him very much, if at all. He's a third assistant engineer--a merchant seaman."

Booth kept his face serious, although the intensity of his stare softened for a moment.

"How was your relationship? Was it especially volatile?" Brennan asked. "Because I can see how working with a man who is quick to argue with you over everything can be overwhelming," she added. The tone in her voice earned a short-lived glare from Booth.

"It--It wasn't perfect, I admit."

"It wasn't?" Booth asked.

"No. Far from it, in fact."

"Would you mind elaborating?" Brennan asked.

"I'll be honest. Completely honest. The last night I saw--" She stopped to keep her voice even and tears at bay. "When Graham comes home... I don't know what to make of it, honestly. I miss him like crazy when he's gone and when he's home he drinks and he hits me, but I still love him-- Does that make me sick?"

"What happened that last night you saw him?" Booth asked.

"That night, Graham got drunk. Not a big surprise, honestly. He got drunk and he... he hit me."

"Did you punch him in the jaw?" Brennan asked, tipping her head to one side.

"Yes, but I didn't kill him! I told him to get out. He got out. After that, I figured he'd spent the night at the motel until he shipped out, which was two days after that... Do I need a lawyer?"

Booth tried to hide the accusatory look from his countenance.

* * *

_There's always more to come! :D_


	11. Part X

**Part X**

Booth leaned forward and grabbed a handful of red and pink jelly beans from the candy dish in the middle of the coffee table.

Sweets was silent as he observed the body language of the partners. It was fascinating, the interpersonal interactions between the two, but what was even more fascinating was how drastically things had changed in the last two months. After Brennan came back from a dig in some South American country (was it Bolivia? Brazil?), things were very different between the two.

Brennan sat, legs crossed away from Booth, slid as far over on the couch as humanly possible to get away from him. Booth did the same, although he seemed much more relaxed as he popped one bean in his mouth after another.

"May I venture to make an observation?" He asked after twenty minutes had passed.

"Oh, G-d, yes!" Booth remarked, glad for the silence to come to an end. He'd spent plenty of minutes in silence over the past two months.

"I would venture to say that there has been a change in... for lack of a better word, the chemistry between you two."

Neither replied.

"Dr. Brennan, are you mad at Agent Booth?"

She was silent for a second, a second too long, "No."

"And you, Agent Booth... are you mad at Dr. Brennan?"

"No, Sweets."

"Look, guys, I'm your psychiatrist. I'm here to help you out and I can't help you out unless you open up."

"If you're going to ask me to close my eyes and imagine opening up, it ain't happening," Booth said bluntly.

Sweets sighed, then tried another tactic, "Anger is often a response to the perception of threat due to a physical conflict, injustice, humiliation, or betrayal. Now, it's my job to find which of those it was. And I'll pick and I'll prod, and I'll dig until I find out what that betrayal was... It was betrayal, wasn't it?"

Booth squeezed a stress ball in silence, then, "You're way off base there, Sweets."

"Then correct me, Agent Booth. Let me in. Open the doors to your heart."

"There'll be no door opening here, Doogie."

"Let's talk about the responses to anger, huh? There's active, where you just lash out and hit one another and then there's passive, which I can see is the thing that's happening here. Am I wrong? You just don't talk to each other. You're all quiet, but I can see that you're brooding. It's like Anakin, man. Always secretly brooding. Both are normal responses, but the extremes of both are unhealthy. My advice... don't turn to the dark side. Know what I mean?"

Brennan looked completely confused. "No... I don't know. Who's Anakin?"

"Star Wars, Bones," Booth said as he stood up, looking at his watch. "Look, time's up for tonight, Sweets."

Brennan stood with him. Although she copied him, she stood up half a second after he did, almost as if she was no longer reading him in the way she once had. She had no idea why he stood up.

Booth glanced at his cell. "Payton. Dinner tonight."

Whatever half-smile that was on Brennan's face quickly retreated. "Right. I've... I've got a dinner tonight, too. With a man."

Booth looked surprised, although he could tell she was lying. "That's great, Bones."

She quickly walked past him into the hallway. Booth followed her out as he texted on his cell.

"Hey, guys. I didn't say that the session is over. We've still got like, a really long time. Twenty-five minutes to be exact."

The door closed behind them, leaving Sweets mumbling to himself, "Gotta... get a lock on that door."

* * *

_Thank you all for your comments and compliments! Yes, we'll get to see that almost kiss from December here in a few chapters! _

_TTYL!  
_


	12. Part XI

**Part XI**

"Both the timeline and Angela's rendering match Graham Herman," Brennan said as they drove out to the Herman residence. "Cam has DNA results for Lane Herman going through, too."

Booth motioned toward a green folder between the two of them, "Police reports show a lot of domestic 911 calls to the residence."

"Was Herman ever booked?"

"For hitting his wife? Weekly--When he was home, anyway," Booth said.

Sweets was sitting in the back seat, listening carefully, making up time from their truncated interview the night before.

"I mean, what kind of a marriage would that be? Gone three-quarters of year, then beating on your wife the other quarter? Why were they even married?" Booth asked himself.

"Maybe she loved him," Brennan mumbled, which warranted a surprised look from Booth and Sweets. "I mean--Obviously that isn't much of a relationship. The isolation, the anger. It's..."

"Not right," Booth finished.

"Yes."

"Cause of death yet?" Booth asked quietly.

"Besides the fracturing patterns in the mandible and phalanges, there's no other skeletal damage. Cam's tox screens should be finished this morning."

"So," Booth said. "Graham gets drunk, beats his wife, it's the last straw so she... drugs him?"

"It's plausible. She could have also poisoned his food, but that's all conjecture until the tox screen comes in."

"That's not a healthy relationship." Booth furrowed his brow.

"And I suppose you know what a healthy relationship is?" Brennan asked.

Annoyed at Brennan's question, Booth replied, "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

"I'm sorry, Booth, perhaps you could enlighten me?"

Booth's jaw muscles flexed. "When you care about someone, you work on your relationship. You mend it, mold it, fix it."

Brennan replied rather sarcastically, "Because that's what makes you a man. Fixing things."

"Yeah. It is. Does that offend you, Bones?"

"Yes. It does!" She honestly didn't know if it did, but she just wanted to say negative things to Booth because it felt good. It let out a little bit of that pent up steam.

"You're unbelievable, do you know that?"

"So you've informed me before, Booth," Brennan replied as she looked out the window.

After a few more minutes of silence, Booth looked over at Bones, "What do you call _this_, Bones?"

Brennan shifted so she was facing him a little more, "Arguing?"

"I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about us. We're in a relationship--some sort... of relationship. Anyway, we're in a relationship, right? We work together to get through stuff because... we care about each other--"

"Or perhaps we have to because of a contract we signed?"

Booth growled. "It's like that in a marriage, you know? When things go wrong, you fix it. You work together to fix it. And it's not because of a piece of paper, it's because..." The fire cooled to a simmer, "Because you love each other."

Sweets was grinning like an idiot in the back seat.

Brennan processed the information rationally, ignoring the familiar tingle running through her body. "So... what you're saying is that... if Graham Herman was a drunken wife-beater, that Rhonda Herman should have taken him to couples counseling?"

"No, Bones," Booth replied softly. "That's not love. You don't--You never lay a hand on a woman. That's not being a man. That's the most cowardly thing a man can ever do."


	13. Part XII

**Part XII**

Sweets looked around Graham Herman's office while Booth snooped around. Brennan was standing in the door, keeping a suspicious eye on Sweets.

Booth sat down at the home computer and turned the computer on.

"What are you doing, Booth?" Brennan walked up behind him, leaning one hand on the back of his seat, and the other on the desk. In the process of doing so and leaning over, her breasts were basically in Booth's face. Booth looked over to her. Brennan immediately stood up straight and crossed her hands over her chest.

"Breaking into the computer."

"Why don't you just ask Mrs. Herman for the password, Booth? Do you always have to exercise your CIA superpowers?"

Booth simply ignored that comment and began typing in passwords while Brennan disappeared from the room.

When she returned, Booth was still typing in random passwords. "I think I've almost got it..."

"Move over." Brennan said.

He looked up, "No. Don't tell me to move over. What the hell's the matter with you?"

She tensed, then laid a foot on the seat and rolled him out of the way. She bent over and with a few quick keystrokes, the computer logged in. "Ten seconds, Booth."

He glared at her, then began looking through the files. "Interesting..."

"What?" Both Sweets and Brennan asked, leaning close.

Booth had opened the pictures folder.

"Oh..." Brennan began.

"My..." Sweets continued.

"G-d." Booth finished.

On the screen were hundreds of files, each of them had a picture of Graham Herman with another woman. Three women total.

"Trouble in paradise?"

"Wh--I'd hardly call it paradise to begin with," Brennan replied.

"Whatever is on that computer is going to be of great importance in this case," Sweets said. "I'd get a warrant."

Booth grinned and held up a piece of paper. "Already got it."

"How'd you convince Judge Oleson to sign that before we had any evidence?" Brennan asked, once again with a bit of a snotty tone.

Booth scowled at her. "Maybe I just have my ways."

"_Illegal _ways?"

"Legal ways, thank you very much. I can do my job, Bones. I've been an investigator a hell of a lot longer than you've been tagging along."

"Tagging along? Is that what you call this?"

"I used to call it a partnership, but now I'm wondering if it's more like Junior High."

"I don't know what that means, but from your tone, I'm assuming that you meant something negative and I don't appreciate it."

"It means that I have to keep volleying your snide comments, Bones."

"Snide?!"

"Yes. Snide. It comes from the Greek and it means that the professor woke up on the wrong side of the bed this... year!"

"It does not. I know the definition."

"If you know the definition, then you should take it and run, Bones. Take it and run."

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you telling me to leave?"

"No. I'm telling you to keep your trap shut."

They stared at each other for several seconds, then Brennan turned. "I'll be waiting in the car."

"Good!"

Brennan peeked back out of the door, "Good!"

"Good," Booth muttered to himself.

"Good!" Brennan yelled from the hallway.

* * *

_Just one more chapter before I go to bed. :D_

_Oh. I just changed the rating to T for mild language. I've written a few chapters ahead, which I will review and get up ASAP, but there's some language in there. I figure I should yield to the old 'better safe than sorry' phrase.  
_


	14. Part XIII

**Part XIII**

Angela was standing beside Brennan while she looked through a microscope in the Medico-Legal lab.

"Is it strange to give a man chocolate? I mean for Valentines Day, of course," Angela said.

"I've never understood that," Brennan replied.

Cam walked onto the platform, scanned her card and sashayed up to them. "Tox and Blood Results came back. It's definitely Graham Herman. And here's the fun part, he had a blood alcohol level of point-nine-eight."

"Woah," Angela replied. "That guy was smashed!"

Brennan gave her a strange look, then assumed it was a colloquialism for having a high blood alcohol level. "Any other drugs in his system?"

"Nope. Other than that, the tox screen was clean."

"I'll let Booth know." Brennan sighed, then looked back into the microscope.

Cam and Angela exchanged glances.

Cam crossed her arms, then sat on the edge of the lab table. "What are you two doing for Valentine's Day? Anything special?"

Brennan stopped adjusting the fine adjustment knob for a split second, then kept turning.

"Well, for me," Angela said. "I'm going out to dinner with Hodgins."

"Hodgins? Wow."

Angela tilted her head to one side, "It isn't anything romantic. We're both currently single, so we've decided to go out together. As friends. Totally platonic."

Cam smiled in her knowing way.

"And what about you?" Angela asked Cam.

"I'm actually going to the Italian restaurant with Jeff."

"Jeff? And who is this elusive Jeff?" Angela smiled.

"He's FBI, actually. I met him one day that I went to the bureau to have lunch with Booth." The fine adjustment knob froze again.

"Nice! What about you, Bren? What are you doing on Saturday?" Angela asked.

Brennan sighed internally, then looked up at the two women. This must be what it's like to have girlfriends. It was unavoidable, the whole girl-talk thing. "I'm actually considering staying in."

"Staying in? I thought you were going to that Kiss N Tell thingy?"

"That was a fleeting possibility, but now I think I'd rather stay home and get some work done."

"Working on a Saturday? On _Valentine's Day?_ We've _got _to get you a man, sweetie."

"I don't need a man to have a fulfilling Saturday evening."

After a second, Angela decided to revisit the old subject of chocolate, "So what should I get Hodgins?"

"Chocolates?" Cam asked.

"That's the problem with this holiday," Brennan spoke up, lifting her eyes from the microscope. "Men are always expected to bring a gift to the women. It's so one-sided. And even then, it's _chocolate _and _flowers_?"

"It's romantic, sweetie."

"The flowers die and the chocolate makes you gain weight. I would hardly consider that romantic."

"It's because he's thinking of you, Bren."

"I think... if a man were to actually sit down and think, actually use his brain, he would see how faulty those gifts are. He would bring me a potted plant and some fresh fruit. _That _makes sense. Not chocolate and cut flowers." Brennan looked back down at her microscope.

"Wow, Dr. Brennan, you really have a way with making romance look like smelly gym socks," Cam said, walking away.

"Sometimes you have to look past the gifts themselves and look at what the man is meaning by the gesture. I'm going to go look through that computer." Angela walked off the platform, leaving Brennan alone with her microscope.

_Thank you all very much for reading! I'm glad you're liking the quick updates. I'm not one to hold chapters for ransom. ;)_


	15. Part XIV

**Part XIV**

Brennan got out of the elevator. She walked towards Booth's office and with every step of the way, her stomach twisted into a tighter knot.

And sure enough, it was for good reason. She stopped several yards off and froze in her tracks at the sight of Booth with his arms around Agent Perotta, kissing her. Those same lips that once kissed her. Alright, she was taking things way too personally. She didn't care for Booth in that way, right? And this wasn't jealousy. It was... hurt. Hurt over the fact that she perhaps didn't hold the same place on a scale of importance that she once held in Booth's... schedule. That was it.

While Booth was kissing Payton, he happened to glance up. Call it a sixth sense. Call it being ridiculously close to your platonic partner for too long. Either way, he looked up and saw Brennan watching them. He immediately broke the kiss and hugged Payton in a playful way, then... he patted her on the shoulder. "I'll talk to you later," he grinned. Why did he just do that? He actually patted her on the shoulder like she had a penis?!

Perotta gave him a strange look, but smiled anyway. "OK, then. I'll see you tonight, Seeley."

Brennan quickly sat at a nearby desk and looked inconspicuous by holding a piece of paper up in front of her face.

Payton turned and walked through the bureau. Male agents watched her hind-quarters as she flounced past them.

Booth walked up to Brennan, hands in pockets. She didn't look up. He reached out and lowered the paper. "Hey, Bones."

Two blue eyes peeked up from behind the white sheet. "Hey. I--Didn't want to disturb your... conference... with Agent Perotta. So--"

"Why are you here?"

"The tox screen came back."

"And?"

"Apparently Graham Herman was 'smashed'... which I assume is a colloquialism for inebriated. His blood alcohol level was point-nine-eight. At 180 pounds, it's a miracle--and I use that term loosely--that he..." Brennan paused as a few pieces of the puzzle were put together in her mind.

"That he what, Bones?"

"It may have been an accident. He may have OD'ed on alcohol."

"But why would he have been stuffed into a storm sewer, Bones?"

"Good point. But with that level of inebriation, he would have been easily taken down. He may have even simply passed out."

"The killer found him, and pushed him into the drain."

"He would have drowned easily. Even in less than three inches of liquid, he could have drowned. Drunks have drowned in their own vomit before. It's not unheard of."

Booth couldn't help but to picture a drunk person laying in a pool of his own vomit. _Eew_. Booth's cell rang. "Booth."

"It's Cam. Is Dr. Brennan with you?" Cam was in Angela's office, talking on her cell.

"Yeah."

"I think you should come over here. Angela found something interesting on the computer that was confiscated from the Herman residence."

"What is it?"

"You'll have to see it to believe it."

* * *

_If you're feeling upset about all of the arguing and distance, just remember that I always guarantee fluff in my stories. ;)_


	16. Part XV

**Part XV**

"What did you find, Ange?" Brennan asked as they walked into Angela's office where she, Cam, and Hodgins were standing around looking at Angela's computer screen.

"I hooked up Graham Herman's computer tower to my screen. Check this out," Angela said.

Booth and Brennan glanced curiously at one another, then walked around so they could both see what Angela was looking at.

"Is that... a love letter?" Booth asked.

Brennan looked momentarily over to Booth. Did he have much experience in writing love letters that he would recognize one so quickly?

"I recovered deleted files. Turns out it was a gold mine for infidelity," Angela said.

"Dear-- _Sweetums_?" Booth read. "My heart is empty without you. I want you in my arms. I want to hold you, kiss you, make love to you once more. Blah, blah, blah... Love, _Snookums_? Alright, the nicknames make me nauseous, but--"

"Who said that the letters were about infidelity?" Brennan finished the sentence Booth wanted to ask. "Perhaps Graham and Rhonda were writing one another?"

"Look at this line," Angela pointed, then read, "I want to run away with you. Why would they want to run away with one another when they were already married?"

"Maybe they wanted to spice things up?" Cam asked.

"No. It doesn't fit," Brennan replied. "I got the distinct impression that neither were interested in spicing things up in their marriage," Brennan shook her head.

"I'm pretty sure Rhonda Herman had the divorce lawyer on speed dial," Booth said. "But that's not necessarily a smoking gun."

"He hit her, Booth. You were right when you said 'what kind of a marriage was that?' I think Angela's right. This is a letter from one of the Hermans to a lover."

"So who was it from? Rhonda or Graham?"

"Angela recovered photos of Graham with other women."

"So, we'll find those women, and ask them if they were Sweetums." Booth smiled. "Thanks, Ange."

Booth walked toward the door and turned when Brennan said, "Booth."

"Yeah?" He turned.

Angela, Cam, and Hodgins watched with silent interest.

Brennan saw Agent Perotta walking through the main doors of the Medico-Legal lab over Booth's shoulder. "Never mind."

"What, Bones?" Booth asked, still oblivious of Perotta's presence.

Brennan breathed in deeply, hoping for some strength. "When you find the women, I'd like to help you interrogate them."

Booth smiled and walked toward her with that cocky/flirty smile on his face. "Of course, Bones. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Good. Because... I'd like to remain involved... in this case, that is." She couldn't help but to smile back at him.

Unfortunately, just as things had begun to feel a tad like they used to, Payton walked through the door. "Seeley."

Cam, Angela, and Hodgins looked between the three, mainly between Booth and Brennan. Brennan looked to her feet quickly.

Booth smiled at Payton and kissed her lightly on the lips when she reached him.

"I was hoping you'd want to grab a bite to eat? That apple pie at the diner is fabulous."

Brennan looked up, catching her breath. He had taken her to the _diner _and fed her _pie_? She tried to erase the hurt look on her face, then she walked past them. "I have to review Wendell's work. Excuse me."

Booth watched silently as Brennan walked out of sight. "Sure, Payton." They walked out of the lab, his arm around Payton's shoulder, her arm around his waist.

"I'm going to go over the clothing," Hodgins said, also leaving the room, obviously escaping the tension.

Angela finally came back to reality when the room had cleared, leaving she and Cam alone. "Was I the only one who saw that?"

"No," Cam said.

"That apple pie remark was low."

"Good thing I'm a coroner. I'm trained for these kinds of messes."

"Let's just agree to not leave Bren alone with Perotta."

"Deal."


	17. Part XVI

_This chapter contains some language, so that is why I upped the rating to a T... that, and another --wink--chapter._

**Part XVI**

Sweets, Brennan, and Booth looked through the two-way glass at a woman, twenty-five, wearing jeans and a tee-shirt. A regular looking woman.

"Honor Rylan," Booth said to Brennan. "I'm not too sure on the details yet, but she was definitely in the photos recovered by Angela."

"How much younger is she than Graham Herman?"

"Thirteen years."

Brennan rolled her eyes.

Booth saw it. "There. There it is again. That eye-roll. What was _that one_ about?"

"I don't know what you mean," Brennan said, suppressing a smile.

"Bones, just tell me what's got your panties in a twist this time."

That got her attention, "What's got my panties in a twist? What's got my pant--I'll tell you what's got my panties in a twist, Booth. Look at her. It's no surprise that she's half his age. I can't believe that they would find very much in common. It was all about sex."

Booth tried not to smile at the fact that his partner had finally caught onto the whole sex vs making love concept. "Maybe they enjoyed the same recreational activities?"

"Like what?" Brennan asked.

"I don't know, Bones... penukle."

"You think they bonded over a card game designed for senior citizens?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it's doubtful in this case. It was purely physical. It's clear as daylight."

"Clear as day, Bones."

Brennan glared at him, then turned toward the glass, "There are other things to find attractive in a mate. You know, other than.." She looked over at Honor Rylan and muttered, "Fake breasts."

Booth's jaw muscles were working by that point. He leaned really close to Brennan, resting a hand behind her head, echoing a distant memory at the shooting range, "Just tell me what's bothering you."

"Nothing's bothering me," she replied, her eyes narrowing.

"Something's up. And you're going to tell me."

"_Am _I?" She huffed. At the same time, however, she was beginning to feel a little dizzy from his proximity to her.

"Yes. And you know why? Because we're partners and we share everything. _Everything_, Bones." With that, Booth left the side room and entered the interrogation room.

Honor looked up as Booth entered the interrogation room.

As the interrogation commenced, Sweets looked over at Dr. Brennan. "Can I ask you a question, Dr. Brennan?"

"No, you may not."

"You seem especially irritable," Sweets said. Wrong thing to say. You never say to a woman that she's irritable. That's just a fact.

Brennan glared at him.

"What's bothering you?"

Through gritted teeth, Brennan said, "Nothing is bothering me. Agent Booth is just a pompous ass."

Sweets shook his head as he approached Brennan. "Nah. That's not it. Agent Booth's personality is the same now as it ever was. Whatever is bothering you has something to do with this change in dynamic between you two."

"As it turns out, you're wrong. Agent Booth _has _changed."

"Or, perhaps _you _have changed?"

"Are you saying that this is my fault? By way of some psychological assumption, no doubt."

"Dr. Brennan, it seems that you've been especially irked by Agent Booth in the past--six to eight weeks. Does it have something to do with his new-found relationship with Agent Perotta?"

Brennan stood up a little straighter. "Why don't you leave your psychological guesswork in the office, Dr. Sweets?" She walked past him, deciding she would rather wait in the waiting lounge rather than being cooped up in a room with a twelve year old.

Sweets pouted, "I was... just trying to help."

In the interrogation room, Booth was still talking to Honor Rylan. Booth had found out two things by that point. She was sleeping with Graham Herman and she had basically no motive.

"I didn't care for Graham enough to kill him. I know what you're thinking. That I killed him because I loved him? I don't think so. He was a good lay. That's it. We got together a few times a month. That's it."

"Where were you on July 2nd?"

"You're joking right?"

"Do you have an alibi?"

She sighed and leaned back. "I... I worked for a kids camp last summer. I'm pretty sure I started at the end of June."

"Pretty sure?" Booth narrowed his gaze.

"Positive, OK? Is that good enough for you? Look, I didn't give a shit for Graham Herman. He had a big cock. That's all. I didn't kill him. OK? Why would I ruin my life to kill a man that I didn't care about. Look, I watch CSI and shit. I know that they always catch you. Why would I risk it?"

* * *

_Thank you for all of your comments & compliments. One more chappie before I sign off for the night! :D_


	18. Part XVII

**Part XVII**

Booth left the interrogation room and saw his partner sitting at the window seat, legs crossed, pealing the thin 'skin' from a peanut.

"Bones?" He asked as he walked toward her.

"Booth." She stood up, pushing the peanut into her slacks.

"You didn't watch the interrogation?"

"I've watched interrogations before, Booth. I could tell that she was innocent."

Booth narrowed his gaze at her. She was lying. He smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they walked out of the Hoover Building. "You gotta work on that poker face, Bones."

"Wh--I'm a good liar!"

"No, you're not. I can read you like a book. A book I've spilled coffee on." He smiled down on her.

"You have your good days," she said, smiling at him.

As they walked past through the building, they passed the kitchenette.

Payton was stirring a hot cup of tea. She grabbed a little container of creamer and poured it in, stirred it. The creamy white swirls danced in the chocolate brown liquid. She sniffed the steam. It smelled good... A lot like a certain FBI agent who liked a good cup of black coffee.

Caroline Julian walked in and began to warm up a cup of tea. The two women smiled at one another. The truth was, Caroline Julian did not like the perky blonde agent. As kind as she was, Caroline had the distinct feeling that the woman was slathering it on just a little too thick.

"Agent Perotta," Caroline said, nodding, hoping that no other conversation would be initiated.

"Hello, Caroline," Payton grinned.

Caroline only blinked. The microwave beeped, she opened it, stirred, then took her leave as quickly as possible.

"_Excuse _me," Payton said. "Some people really need to learn some manners," she sighed, then leaned against the counter and sipped her coffee. Just as the mug lowered, she watched as Booth walked by, his arm around Brennan's shoulders.

Payton froze, then immediately walked to the office down the hall and barged right in.

"You!"

Sweets nearly spilled the coffee that was in his hand. It sloshed around in the mug. Brownish streaks slipped down the sides. He began coughing and finally got a hold of himself enough to look up to see who was yelling at him. "Uh... Agent Perotta, right?"

Perotta put her hands on her hips. Few people walked all over this woman and it was clear from her confident posture. She put her hands on her hips and stared Sweets down. "I need to talk to you pronto. OK, amigo?"

"I--I'm just about to see a patient. I think I can clear my schedule... How's Thursdays?"

Perotta glared at him, then walked over and sat at the chair across from Sweets' desk. "You're Seeley's shrink, right?"

For a moment, things went through Sweets' mind. Perotta + Booth... Perotta+Booth equals Testy Brennan. "You're here about...?"

"Let's just cut to the chase here, Sweets." Perotta crossed her legs. For a moment, Sweets lost his train of thought and his eyes grew wide. No wonder Agent Booth was seeing this woman! She was hot to the power of ten! She tossed a golden lock over her shoulder. "I need some information, and you've got that information, so we're going to play a little game called, I Ask You A Question, You Answer Or Die."

Sweets shook his head adamantly. "I'm sorry, Agent Perotta, but doctor-patient confidentiality--"

Perotta scrunched her brow. "Give me a little credit here, Sweets. I'm not going to break your little code of ethics. I just have one question for you."

"As long as it has nothing to do with any of my patients."

She glared him down for a moment, then decided to take another tactic. The FBI Agent tactic. She'd get the information from Sweets. "As you may well know, Agent Booth and I have been involved for some time."

"I may have seen you two around the off--"

Beautiful and straightforward as she was, Perotta was determined to kick it into Agent mode, "Can it Sweets. I happen to know that you have been Booth and Brennan's psychiatrist for going on two years now--" _As creepy as it is that they're in couples counseling but strictly platonic..._

"That's true, yes." Sweets didn't quite know what to make of this.

"Did I ask you to speak?"

Sweets shook his head.

Perotta leaned forward, pulling the sensual card, "I think we're all friends here at the FBI, right? So just answer one little question for me honestly. Can you do that, Sweets? Honesty?"

"Agent Perotta, I pride myself on honesty, but if your question crosses the boundary of confidentiality--"

"Right. I get it. You can't tell me anything that has to do with their therapy sessions. But you _can _tell me about their time together outside of therapy sessions."

"Agent--"

"Just chill homey, OK? Just answer me one question--" Payton was internally turning off Agent Mode and turning on Girlfriend Mode--a very dangerous place to be-- "Would you consider their interactions purely... professional?"

Sweets sighed and stood up, rounding the desk to Agent Perotta and leaned against the desk. "I assure you that Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan have been nothing but professional."

"Meaning they haven't slept together," Perotta tipped her head to the side.

"Of course that's what I meant."

"That's what I thought," Perotta sighed. In a lot of ways, that was worse than being told that they had slept together. Sexual tension and putting things like that on a sexual pedestal can often times make all other interactions bland in comparison. Would she ever be able to measure up to the standard that Dr. Brennan had created in Booth's heart? Either way, the whole relationship seemed doomed. Except for the sex part. That was great. But something told her in her heart that it couldn't always be sex. And, it seemed, that Booth knew that, too.

Agent Payton Perotta was never used to being second in anything. She had taken track in high school and had always been feverishly competitive. She was first to cross the finish line. First in her high school class, top of her class at Fort Benning. Being second in Seeley Booth's heart might as well have been like being dead last.

Perotta stood with a bit of a hurt look on her face. _Why did this have to happen in February? Note to self, begin doomed relationships in mid to late summer. _Trying to keep from bursting into un-Perotta-like tears, she said, "Thanks a lot, Sweets."

"Uh..." Sweets stood. Perotta turned. "Did I help? I helped, right? I mean, Agent Booth's a nice guy and all, but I've been warned in advance that if I butted in too much he would break my nose, so..."

Perotta smiled softly and patted Sweets on the shoulder, "You helped. Thanks."

Sweets sighed as he watched Perotta leave the office, fully believing that he had done the right thing to avoid bodily injury via Agent Booth.

* * *

_Enjoy. I figured I should throw the shippers a bone. _;) _I didn't want to demonize Perotta. We don't know if she and Booth are going to date, but from the sides I've read, they do flirt. _


	19. Part XVIII

**Part XVIII**

"Contestant Number Three," Booth said as they stood as they were two days before, looking out at a young woman in her twenties through the two-way glass of the interrogation room. "Shevaun Carlisle, 22, works at Mickey D's."

"The third woman in the photographs," Brennan remarked. "Whatever happened to the second woman?"

"Ashley Ulric," Booth said tightly. All day, he had been avoiding eye contact with Brennan, which was making whatever steam that had been pent up from before dissipate. "I questioned her this morning. I figured you wouldn't wanna come."

"Of course I would, Booth. I asked you the other day if I could be here to help you interrogate these women. You said yes."

Booth finally looked into her eyes. There was something there that she couldn't put her finger on. Was he mad at her? Sure, she had been treating him terribly, but... "Sorry, Bones."

He turned and walked out. In the doorway, Brennan said, "Booth."

He turned.

"Are you OK?" She asked.

He only tightened his lips into a mirthless grin, then walked out.

Brennan watched as he entered the interrogation room. She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings. Jeez, what a horrible feeling, making someone you care for angry at you. Now she owed him an apology for being so terrible.

Shevaun, a young African American woman with unusually large bright green eyes, looked up at Booth and smiled as he sat down.

"I admit it," the woman said. "I forgot to pay a couple of parking tickets. Does that seriously deserve being dragged to the J. Edgar building?"

Booth sighed, "Do you know Graham Herman?"

"Is that what this is about?"

"Yes. Do you know the man?" Booth didn't feel like beating around the bush that much that day.

"Sure. We were together last year for a bit. Don't worry, we aren't together any more. He hasn't hit me since. That was it for me, OK? I told him to hit the road after that. I'm no piece of meat."

"How often did he hit you?"

"He hit me once. And that was it. Once is too much, my mama said."

"Did you ever hit him back?"

Shevaun made a face, "No. It was like I said. He hit me once. I told him to pack his bags. Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out, you know?"

"Did you know that Herman was married?"

"I get it now. I see what it's about. Rhonda's suing me? The bitch."

"Miss Carlisle, Graham Herman is dead."

A horrified look crossed her face, "You think I killed him?"

"You're a suspect, yes."

"I didn't kill him. I can tell you that. What's that thing--? Motive. I have no motive. After he hit me, he was out of there. I never looked back. I'm engaged to be married. To a rich, wonderful guy. Why would I even think about that scuzzbag ever again?" Shevaun held out her hand which bore a glittery diamond. "Last I saw Herman was last April. I told him that it was over."

"Where were you on July 2nd?"

"The Caribbean with my fiance Robert. I'll show you the trip stuff. I wasn't even in the country!"

* * *

_Thanks for the comments. :D_


	20. Part XIX

**Part XIX**

Booth and Brennan were driving back to the Herman residence.

After several minutes of tense silence, Brenann spoke, "Are you angry with me?"

Booth looked over at her, then back at the road, then back at her, then back to the road as he mulled over what he should say, "I'm not mad at you, Bones."

"Maybe you're mad at me subconsciously?"

Booth smiled, "You don't even believe in that. You said so yourself."

"But you do. Sometimes when you believe in something even a little bit it has a hold on you."

"That's not it, Bones," he replied softly. It was like the fire was out, which was driving Brennan crazy. What in the world was wrong with Booth?

"I'm sorry I've been so malapert lately, Booth."

He looked over at her. "That means snippy, right?"

Brennan smiled a bit, "I don't know what came over me. Perhaps I did wake up on the wrong side of the bed this year."

Booth smiled at her, "You've never woken up on the wrong side of the bed, Bones. I'm sorry I said that."

"No. You were right, Booth. I was brazen and rude. You didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of my attitude problem."

"I'm kinda used to it," Booth said, grinning.

She was too glad to have an actual conversation with the man to feel annoyed at that comment. "So, when are you going to tell me what happened?"

"I'm not sure I even wanna talk about it."

"I thought we were partners, Booth. We talk. That's what we do." Then Brennan grinned mischievously, "Open the doors to your heart, Booth. Just close your eyes and imagine them opening."

Booth chuckled at the Sweets reference, then he grew serious. "Payton and I fought last night."

Brennan's grin disappeared, too. It was good to know that things weren't perfect between the two, but it pained her to see Booth so distressed. "I'm sorry."

"It's OK, Bones." After a pause, he added, "It's just--sometimes I wonder if I'm going to be alone for the rest of my life. That's just not the way I pictured it, you know?"

Brennan studied his face for a few seconds. He look so hurt. "You'll never be alone, Booth."

Booth smiled over at Brennan.

"Did you break up?"

Booth shook his head, "No, but it's probably on the horizon."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thanks, Bones."

"Do you... want to talk about it? I mean--It's either me or Sweets." She smiled encouragingly.

Booth hesitated. She was right. Who else would he talk about this with? Not with Payton. Certainly not with Sweets. Why not with the woman he considered to be his best friend? "What we have here, Bones-- It's special, you know? It's different. Not a lot of people understand that."

She looked up. So they had been fighting about _her? _"Booth, I--"

"Bones. You don't have to say anything," Booth seemed to be thinking about a million things as he drove, a strained look in his eyes. "She just... thinks that you and I are more... more than partners. I told her that we're just partners... Like I always say," Booth broke a small smile across his face with that last phrase. "She's right, you know. We're not just--just partners," Booth said. Brennan looked up, surprised. "We're friends, too. We're _good _friends and--and... Let's--Let's just not talk about this... any more."

"Sure, Booth," Brennan replied softly.

* * *

_Up next: A little Hodgela. ;)_


	21. Part XX

**Part XX **

Later that evening, Hodgins found Angela where he had seen her everyday for most of that week: Sitting next to her computer, looking through file after file of love letters and photographs.

"Hey, Ange."

"Hey, Hodgins."

"Find anything yet?"

Angela looked up and smiled at him. "Whoever these two people were, they were definitely trying to be secretive. They never use names, never name places. Nicknames, code names..." She sighed and sat back. "I'm getting a migraine."

Hodgins smiled sympathetically, "Sorry. Hey, I got you something."

Angela sat up, "I thought we said no gifts?"

"It's a holiday, Angie. Lighten up."

OK, Valentine's Day should count as a holiday, right? Besides, she had been considering getting him a Valentine, plus they were friends... "What did you get me?"

Hodgins walked over and sat on the edge of her desk, then pulled out a card from his back pocket. It was tucked into an envelope with _'Angie' _written on the front.

Angela took the envelope and opened it up, The front page had two ladybugs and it said, "Be My..." Angela turned the page and on the inside it said "Love Bug." She smiled, "Cute, Hodgins."

"Hey," Hodgins laughed defensively. "I thought it was appropriate. Although, they didn't draw the_ Coccinella septempunctata _very accurately. But I thought it was cute, too," he grinned flirtaciously. "So, did you get me something?"

Angela smiled, "I'll tell you what. I'll go out and scoop up the first dog mess I see and bring it back in a Ziploc bag for you."

Hodgins seemed to consider the offer, hiding the smile from his face, "Is it a fresh one or one of the crumbly white ones?"

Angela laughed at him. "Which would you prefer?"

"Eh... somewhere in the middle."

Changing the subject, Angela asked, "Where are we going to dinner on Saturday?"

"_L'Auberge Chez François_."

Angela's smile disappeared, she crossed her arms and tiled her head to one side, "That's way too expensive, Hodgins."

"You're joking, right?"

"No. I mean, I know how much money you have, but that doens't matter. _L'Auberge Chez François _is a place that you take someone you're dating."

"It's Valentine's Day, Ange. Did you think I'd take you to Chick-Fil-A?"

Angela sighed, "Fine, but I'm ordering something cheap."

"Nothing's cheap on that menu. They don't even _have _a menu."

"Then I'll ask for water."

"Just water?"

"Yes."

"You realize that they charge you for the water, right?"

"Fine. But... Fine."

Hodgins grinned at her and stood up. He walked out of the office leaving Angela thinking. Why was it so difficult to stay friends with this man? Maybe they were making it difficult on purpose. They could be friends. Bren and Booth have been just friends.

"Ha. Yeah, right," she muttered to herself as she got back to work.

* * *

_Sorry for so few updates today. Today's been a busy day. I thank you all for your comments & compliments!!_

**_Up next: A disgusting revelation in the case! (And some classic B/B bickering!)_**


	22. Part XXI

**Part XXI**

"Angela, you called?" Brennan asked as she and Booth walked into her office.

"Well, after four doses of Excedrin and six cups of coffee, I actually found something that might be pertinent to your case," Angela replied, leaning back and rubbing her temples.

"It's not safe to mix coffee and Excedrin. Excedrin is already caffeinated," Brennan said.

Angela didn't reply.

Booth leaned over and read the letter that was on the desktop. He frowned, "I don't get it."

Brennan leaned over, hoping she would be able to see something Booth didn't see, but she didn't see anything, either. "What about it, Ange?"

"I recovered this letter from the hard drive. Whoever wrote it had erased it. Then I found something interesting. I--" She looked up at Booth, "I'm not sure if I was allowed to legally--"

"Don't worry about it, I'll get you the clearance."

Relieved, Angela looked back at the computer, "I tapped into Rhonda Herman's email. I found that letter in her Messages Received file."

Brennan made a face, "So... she wrote the letters herself?"

"That's what I can't make sense of," Angela said. "The letters were written on this computer, but then emailed to Rhonda? I don't get it, either. I figured that you'd be able to make more sense of it than I can."

"Graham Herman wrote the letters to his own wife?" Brennan asked.

Angela shook her head, "That's impossible. You said that Graham Herman was away at sea nine months of the year."

"So?" Booth asked.

"This file here," Angela tapped at the love letter, "Was created in February. No matter how you place that three month window, he was out to sea when that letter was written."

"Nice job, Ange," Brennan said.

Angela smiled. It was nice to finally get some positive feedback from Brennan. She'd been such a downer of late.

Booth was silently thinking it over.

"What are you thinking, Booth?" Brennan asked.

"Somebody in the household was writing love letters to Rhonda Herman. It wasn't Graham Herman. I sincerely doubt it was Rhonda Herman to herself. So, that leaves one person..."

Brennan's eyes grew wider as realization set in, "_Lane _Herman!"

Angela grinned and laughed, "_What?_ Sweetums was doing his _mommy?_"

"_Step_-mommy," Brennan corrected.

Booth looked disgusted, "That's just nasty."

"Well, it isn't _completely _unheard of," Brennan said. Both Angela and Booth gave her a shocked look. "What? There are countless cases throughout literature and history. Take Oedipus Rex for example."

"Oedipus Rex? That's what you get for dating women twice your age," Booth said.

"He was completely incognizant of his actions. It wasn't like he _chose _to have a sexual relationship with his mother on purpose."

"I'm sorry, Bones. That's just wrong _beyond _wrong."

"I'm not saying it's right. I'm just saying that it isn't completely outrageous."

"Oh. It's outrageous," Booth said nodding.

"I'm with Booth on this one, sweetie," Angela nodded.

"Ancient Egypt prided itself on incestuous unions to keep the wealth in the family. Is that so crazy, Booth?"

"Crazy. _And _insane. Not to mention disgusting."

"And then there's Lot and his daughters," Brennan added, one brow raised.

Booth's brows shot northward. "No. You're not bringing the Bible in on this one, too, Bones."

"Now you're just being ridiculous, Booth. You have no control over what was written in that book."

"Lot was drunk and his daughters basically tricked him into sleeping with them. That's a far cry from a young man sleeping with his mommy. _On purpose_."

"_Step_-mommy. They don't even share DNA."

"Still nasty, Bones," Booth said, walking toward the door. "Let's go find Lot... I mean, Lane."

"See? You slipped. Freud, Booth!"

"You don't even believe in psychology, Bones." Booth said as they walked out of the office. Angela laughed to herself as she listened their arguing.

"You're being irrational, Booth."

"Me? Irrational? You're basically saying that you condone this relationship?"

"_Possible _relationship. We haven't even talked to Lane Herman yet."

"Oh. It's him, Bones. It's him," Booth said with a shudder.

--

_More thrills and chills to come!_


	23. Part XXII

**Part XXII**

Standing with Brennan and Booth in the viewing room, Sweets tried to hold back a surprised/disgusted laugh, "_What?_ She was doing her _son?"_ He gestured at Rhonda Herman through the two-way glass.

Brennan gave returned the surprised look, "That's exactly what Angela said. Well--She said, 'doing his mommy,' but you get the idea."

"Nasty," Sweets said.

Booth perked up, "Hear that, Bones? _Nasty_." He held out his fist for Sweets, who tickled pink to at the offer. He reached out and bumped the fist like it was Christmas morning.

"We don't even know all of the details yet," Brennan said.

"In my experience, Bones, when people have one thing to hide, they usually have a lot more skeletons in the closet."

"Skeletons?"

"Things to hide. Besides, I've got a feeling about Lane Herman."

"Let me guess. Your gut's talking to you?"

"Yes, Bones, my gut."

"Oh _Kay_." She walked out of the interview room and entered the interrogation room.

"You're not interviewing Rhonda Herman, Agent Booth?"

Booth smiled, "Nah. I'm gonna give this one to Bones."

Sweets studied Booth's face. Something was different. Wrong? Right?

Rhonda looked up at Brennan as she entered the interrogation.

Brennan sat down and sat the green file folder on the table and they began talking.

Sweets turned toward Booth. "What happened between you and Agent Perotta? She didn't say anything about me, right? Because she was lying if she did."

Booth gave him a curious look. "Nothing happened."

"Agent Booth, I'm trained in telling if somebody is lying and I can tell that you're lying."

Booth sighed, "We fought."

"But she didn't say my name?"

"No, Sweets. Why would she say your name? No. She--she was just upset. She thinks that Brennan and I are more than partners."

"Yeah? And how did that go?"

"She broke up with me."

"She--she did?"

"Yeah, but don't say anything to Brennan."

"Why?"

Booth smiled thoughtfully, "I was planning on going to Bones' place on Saturday. You know, surprise her. She said she's going to the bar, but... I think I know better by now.."

Sweets gasped, "You didn't tell Dr. Brennan that you broke up with Agent Perotta?"

"First of all, Sweets. She broke up with me. Second of all, I--I was already planning on going over to Brennan's anyway. I don't want her to think that I'm going over there because I'm lonely or heartsick or any of that."

"That's very honorable of you Agent Booth."

"Honorable nothing. Bones is my friend. End of story. Now let's just listen to the interrogation, OK? Leave the shrinky stuff for your hour sessions."

Sweets smiled and watched the interview through the two-way glass.

"Did you need to know something else?" Rhonda asked. "I--I thought I told you everything I know."

"Funny that you say everything."

"I... don't understand."

"Let's start with July 2nd, Mrs. Herman. You said you argued with your husband that night?"

"Yes. We fought."

"It became physical?"

"Yes. I already told you all of this."

"Where was Lane during all of this?"

"Wh--Lane? Why do you want to know about Lane?"

"We have reason to believe that he may know more than we had originally thought. Where is your son?"

"Step-son," Rhonda corrected. The correction made Brennan narrow her eyes at her. "He--He has a place of his own now."

"Why were there video game controls splayed all over the living room when we went to your place?"

"I told you I hadn't gotten to clean up."

_"__Why?"_

"He... He spends the night... some nights. He _visits_."

"Does he?" Brennan opened the folder and slid the letters around so she could view them. "Do these look familiar to you?"

The woman faltered.

"Are you_ Snookums?"_

"No!"

"This was found in your email inbox. The letters were written on your computer. How is it that the letters got from your computer to your email? I doubt you were writing yourself love letters."

"Don't be ridiculous. Graham wrote those letters to me. We were trying to spice things up. And you have no business reading my personal email."

"I have a warrant that says otherwise," Brennan said, echoing Booth. "And this letter was written in April. Your husband was at sea when that letter was written... on _your _computer, to _you_."

Rhonda looked like she had been backed into a corner. "I--I think I'd like a lawyer now."

Clammed up by the lawyer excuse, Brennan left the room.


	24. Part XXIII

Part XXIII

Sitting at the diner, Booth took a sip of his coffee. "I've got my guys looking for Lane Herman. He can't be that hard to bring in. Good coffee."

The waitress walked up, smiled at the familiar couple and laid a plate of french fries in front of Booth and a milk shake in front of Brennan.

"Thank you," Brennan said. The waitress nodded and walked off silently.

"Mmm," Booth grabbed a ketchup bottle, squirted the sauce on the plate, and began to dip a fry. He popped it into his mouth.

"Do you know that french fries contain a chemical called acrylamide?"

Booth dipped another fry, stuck it into his mouth. "And what does that mean for me, Bones?"

"The British Journal of Cancer, the Journal of the American Medical Association, and World Health Organization, among others, have all noted its link to cancer. And those fries contain copious amounts."

Booth smiled and dipped another fry and put it in his mouth.

"You could be killing yourself with every bite, Booth."

He dipped again. Ate the fry. "Bones, you've gotta live a little. Life is about living."

"Technically... you're right. Life _is _about living, but those french fries are terribly unhealthy."

Booth smiled and pushed the plate toward her. "Have a fry, Bones."

"No."

"Have a fry. You know you wanna taste it. Mmm it's so gooood."

"_Acrylamide?"_

"You've eaten my fries before, Bones. You've invited yourself on my fries before. It's like any other time."

Brennan decided to change the subject, "What are you doing on Saturday, Booth? I know that Agent Perotta is working."

Booth sighed and dropped the fry subject. "Staying in."

"That sounds nice."

"Yeah, it does, Bones," Booth said with a bit of a dejected look.

"Are you... going to eat that?" Brennan said with a smile, looking at Booth's fries.

Booth looked up and smiled.

Brennan reached over and picked out a fry, which she popped into her mouth. "Good fries."

"Acrylamide?" Booth asked.

"You've gotta live, Booth. A little acrylamide never hurt anybody. You know--besides lab rats."

"Poor Mickey," Booth said, reaching for a fry.

"Poor Minnie," Brennan said, reaching for another fry.

"We should send Walt a gift basket."

"A fruit basket sounds nice. And you can use your CIA superpowers to find which Cryogenic Facility he's in."

"Walt Disney was cremated, Bones." Booth reached for another fry as Brennan took a sip from her chocolate milkshake.

"Wh--I was being farcical and preposterous." She took a thoughtful bite, then, "You know, we shouldn't make light of animal cruelty. It's horrible."

Booth grinned and reached for Brennan's milkshake, taking a sip.

She hit his hand. "Hey, that's mine!"

"What's mine is yours and yours is mine, Bones." Booth smiled and leaned forward.

Brennan leaned into the table. "Is that in our contract, too, Booth?"

"Section 4 Paragraph 3 Line 8, Bones."

"Now you're the one that's being farcical," she said, returning the flirtatious smile Booth was beaming at her. She took the milkshake and took a sip, not even caring that it was from the very straw that Booth had just taken a sip from.

--

_Two Chaps for y'all! :D Thank you all once again for your comments and compliments! _

_I did this with the last story, so I think I'll do it once again here. If you are reading and haven't left a comment yet, could you pretty please? I'm curious as to how many are reading. TY!!_

_-Mama_


	25. Part XXIV

Part XXIV

Booth whistled as he looked through a tan-colored file. He and Brennan were walking through the Hoover Building. "This guy's got a record longer than... I don't know, longer than what, Bones?" He turned and pushed the door open with his back.

"The Bang Na Expressway." She walked through the open door.

Booth gave her a questioning look.

"It's the longest bridge in the world. Over 54,000 meters."

Booth's brows shot up and he grinned, "Nice one, Bones."

"What does the rip sheet say?" Brennan peeked over his shoulder.

"_Rap _sheet, Bones. Petty theft, grand larceny, grand theft auto--" Booth paused to grin. Brennan gave him a curious look. _Why had he found that amusing?_ "Attempted kidnapping, felony assault. This guy's one bad mo."

She ignored that. "What are you thinking happened?"

They paused in front of the interrogation room. Booth pulled out a picture from the file that he had tucked in there. A photograph of Rhonda and Lane looking a little too cozy for step-mother and step-son.

"Where'd you get that?" Brennan took the picture from his hand.

"Angela found it in the photo album. I'm thinking that Herman came home a little wasted, hit the wife. She tells him to leave. He leaves. Lane goes after him."

"He wanted to protect Rhonda."

"They throw a few punches--"

"Graham Herman goes down easily because he's so intoxicated."

"He may have passed out cold, Lane thought he'd killed the guy, so he removes the sewer grate and pushes the body in."

"But it's not a smoking gun, Booth."

"True, but I've got my ways. Legal ways, Bones."

"I didn't say I thought otherwise."

They entered the interrogation room.

Lane Herman sat behind the desk. He wore blue jeans and a polo tee shirt. He was well manicured and quite handsome for being a young bachelor in his twenties.

Brennan and Booths took their seats.

"We know you did it, Lane." Booth said.

The man looked up. "What?"

"Let's talk about July 2nd," Booth said.

"I--I didn't kill my dad. I swear."

"You sure did get to that fast."

"Look, I'm not stupid. I'm a computer software engineer. I'm twenty-two. I'm not a moron."

"You don't have to be a moron to kill somebody, Mr. Herman."

"Don't call me that. I'm Lane. Herman was my father. I don't associate myself with that name."

"We have forensic evidence linking you to the scene of the crime," Brennan said.

"What evidence?"

"Hair, fibers--"

"I lived with the man of course my hair's gonna be on him."

"Neighbors who put you with your father that night throwing punches," Booth said.

Brennan took her cue, "He was intoxicated. He came in, hit Rhonda a few times. She throws him out. You follow him--"

"The rest is history, Lane. You try to stop him, make him pay for what he did to your--whatever you call her--"

"Lover," Brennan supplied.

Lane made a coughing sound, "What? You think Rhonda is my lover? That's--That's sick."

"Is it?" Brennan asked.

Booth slid the letters across the table. "Is it, Schmoopsy-Poo?"

"One of our experts found the same letters sent from your email to Rhonda's email," Brennan said.

Lane began to breathe heavily. "You're wrong!"

"You hit him, he fell." Brennan.

"Then you kicked his body into a storm drain." Booth.

Lane stood up, "You're wrong!"

"Then you should clarify things for us, Lane, because we're quite curious," Brennan said.

Lane paced for several seconds. "I love Rhonda. She was never a mother to me. She was always... a woman. A beautiful woman. My dad married her when I was eighteen. I was a man then. I'm a man now. I wanted to marry Rhonda, but she felt guilty about divorce. Or maybe she just felt weird about divorcing dad and marrying me. I don't know."

"What happened on July 2nd, Lane?" Booth pressed.

Lane paused and looked between the two investigators. Realizing that there was no way out, he finally said, "He hit Rhonda. I lost it and... I chased him out of the house. I hit him a couple of times and he just went down. I don't know what happened. I--I panicked. I thought I killed him."

"He was most likely still alive, Lane," Brennan said.

"What?" Lane searched their faces for truth. It hit him that the truth was being told. "Oh, G-d! No!"

"Then what?" Booth said.

"I... I did like you said. I pulled the cover off the storm drain and pushed him in. I swear I didn't mean it, though! I swear! I just... I just wanted to be with Rhonda. I just wanted him to stop hitting her. I didn't mean it..."

--

_Tomorrow is "Valentine's Day"... I'll posting the last juicy chapters. Stay tuned!_


	26. Part XXV

**Part XXV**

Angela, dressed in a short sassy, sexy, black dress, was walking through the Medico-Legal lab, as she walked, she met Cam. Cam was finishing up work, too before her date that night. Her hair was pulled up in a dramatic up-do. She wore an equally sexy red dress.

"Wow, Cam! You look hot!" Angela breathed. "Jeff is one lucky guy!"

Cam, who had been leaning leaning over a computer, straightened and eyed her friend, "Thanks Angela. You look fabulous!"

"Thank you. Have you seen Bren?"

"Office, I think. Hold on a sec, I'll go with you." She finished typing, then logged off. The two women walked toward Brennan's office. "What are you and Hodgins doing tonight?"

"We're going to _L'Auberge Chez François, _which, by the way, I can only pronounce thanks to my three years in Paris."

"Wow. Fancy! Isn't that a bit--?"

"Spendy? That's what I said, but Hodgins thought it wasn't."

Cam looked impressed. "Does Hodgins have a brother? And if so, can I have his number?"

"Only child, sweetie." Angela grinned. "Where's your FBI guy taking you?"

"I thought we were going to that Italian place, but he said it was a surprise."

"Surprises are always the best. In my experience they always end in a few bottles of champagne and sock puppets."

Cam laughed as she and Angela entered Brennan's office. They stood in the doorway silently for several minutes and simply stared at Brennan who was wearing jeans and her lab jacket.

"Dr. Brennan, you can go home now. Angela and I are going now."

Brennan looked up and hesitated before saying, "I've just got a few more things to do now."

Cam smiled and rounded around to where Brennan stood. "Just turn it off. Murder and mayhem will always be here for you tomorrow."

Brennan just looked at her.

"Go home, Dr. Brennan. Take the evening off."

Cam's smile actually worked on her. Besides the fact that Cam had a beautiful and warm smile, there was also the fact that Brennan was exhausted and she wasn't getting much work done with double vision. She turned off the computer screen. Angela helped Brennan off with her jacket and put on her winter coat for her. "Sweetie, go home, take a bath, watch some Audrey Hepburn films and relax for once in your life. OK, sweetie?"

Brennan looked over to Cam for help. Cam was quick to reply, "Don't look at me, Dr. Brennan. I agree with Angela. If you can't spend tonight on a date, you should at least pamper yourself." Angela and Cam sandwiched Brennan between their arms and walked her out of the lab.

On their way, Hodgins walked up, dressed in a suit and looking as hot as ever. (You know, aside from when he's shirtless, but I'm not alone there, I assume?)

"Angie, wow!" Hodgins was taken aback.

"Thank you," Angela beamed. "You look pretty good yourself, Hodgins."

Hodgins looked at the other two women, "You look nice too, guys."

Cam smiled and rolled her eyes. Hodgins was obviously so head-over-heals with Angela that he hardly noticed Brennan and Cam.

"I'll see you Monday," Angela said, wrapping her hand around Hodgins' arm as they walked out of the lab.

"I hope you have a nice dinner with Agent Wilcox," Brennan said to Cam.

Cam smiled, "Thank you, Dr. Brennan. I'll see you Monday?"

"Yes. Hell or high horses."

"High water, Dr. Brennan, but I know what you mean."

The two women parted in the parking lot.


	27. Part XXVI

**Part XXVI**

Brennan unlocked her front door. The heat had been off and she shivered as she entered. It had certainly been a long week and it weighed on her eyelids heavily.

She took off her shoes in the entryway and walked over to the heat switch and turned the dial past 70 degrees.

In the kitchen, nothing exciting was to be found in the refrigerator. That's the price paid by forensic anthropologists. Chronically empty refrigerators. She sighed and went to the bedroom where she chose a pair of pink-with-red-hearts flannel pajamas. A gift from Angela for Valentine's Day the year before.

Sliding her cold feet into a pair of fuzzy white slippers, she shuffled back into the living room. It was still chilly in the room, so she sat on the sofa and pulled a warm throw over her shoulders. She grabbed the remote and turned on the radio.

Being Valentine's Day, song after song was a romantic slow ballad. It wasn't too long after that when her eye lids finally grew so heavy that fluttered shut.

_December_

She bent over and tied her ice skates. They felt uncomfortable and stiff against her ankles. It was a strange feeling. The rink was chilly which only made the goosebumps crawl farther up her neck and down her arms.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Booth?" She asked, worried about his injuries.

Booth helped her stand. They walked toward the ice. The first few steps were wobbly and unsure. To be honest she wasn't a _terrible _skater. She was a _HORRIBLE _skater.

Music began to play. Lights sparkled from somewhere above.

Booth smiled and made a comment about his needing to stay up all night and who better to keep him awake than she?

She blushed and wrapped her arm around his, linking them.

Brennan asked Booth if she was a bad skater. Booth grinned and said no, but she could tell he was lying.

"I think that Agent Perotta liked working with us."

Booth shifted and began to skate backwards, holding his hands out for her. She held them, honestly having no other choice than to fall on her butt. "I think so, too, Bones."

"I think she might like you, Booth."

Booth didn't reply to that. Instead, he let go of her hands, leaving her to wobble and try to catch her balance. He skated around her, showing off his skating skills.

"Booth!" She began to lose her balance even more.

Booth quickly skated up and held her tight, pulling her close to his chest.

Brennan laughed lightly, blushing uneasily, "Why did you let go?"

"I--I don't know," he said.

It was so different, having him wrapped around her, and her wrapped around him. "You lied to me, Booth."

"Me?" He grinned.

"You told me that I wasn't a bad skater. You lied."

"I may have stretched the truth a bit," he said, his voice growing dangerously husky.

"A bit?"

"Bones, I-- Yeah, I lied," he admitted.

She laughed, which made Booth smile wider. They still couldn't let go of one another. The lights from the disco ball overhead sparkled around them like a million stars.

"But... only because..." Booth said, his lips growing nearer to hers.

"Hmm?" Was the only thing she could squeak out. The closeness of Booth to her, made the heat rise from beneath her sweater. All sense of coherent thought quickly fled her mind as he drew slowly closer to her.

"Because..."

They could both hear their hearts beating in their ears. Beating. Throbbing. Thud-thud-thud, as their lips came within millimeters of each other.

When their lips finally brushed and Brennan had made the resolve to let Seeley Booth kiss her and she would most definitely do the same, her skates slipped from beneath her, going beneath Booth's legs, taking them both to the ice with a cold hard thud.

"Your arm!" Brennan said immediately, checking his cast.

Booth groaned and rolled over, "My head." He reached over and held it with one hand.

She smiled, leaning over him. "How many fingers do you see?" She held out two over his eyes.

"Twelve."

"You're going to be OK," she smiled.

They looked at one another and began to laugh.

What a pair, indeed.

--

_Note: _

_Brennan's dream: Up until the part where Brennan talks about Perotta is based on spoiler sides (conversations have been edited out on purpose or paraphrased), everything after that is pure fluffy fiction (although I'm hoping that it isn't... hehehe)..._

_One more chapter left!_


	28. Part XXVII

**Part XXVII**

The pounding of their hearts grew louder in her ears.

_Thud-Thud-Thud!_

_Thud-Thud-Thud!_

Brennan woke up. The room was still chilly and she wasn't on the rink any more.

Growing more conscious of where she was, she stood up and crossed the room to the peephole. Looking through it, she could only see something fuzzy and black.

"Bones, it's me."

"Booth," she said, sliding the lock over and opening the door.

Booth did indeed stand on the other side of the door. He was wearing his casual clothes. A tight tee that just begged to be torn off, jeans, jacket, and a cocky grin. His hands were hidden behind his back.

"What do you want, Booth?" She asked, leaning against the door.

"I'd like to be invited in," he smiled.

She couldn't help but to smile, too. She let him past. He entered, hands still behind his back.

She ignored that. "How'd you know I was here?"

Booth smiled and walked up to her, hands in pockets. "I know you, Bones."

Brennan felt a little offended at that comment. "What? You didn't think that I'd go out?"

Booth smiled, "I just know my Bones."

"What's behind your back?" She asked.

Booth was quick to change the subject, "Jeez, Bones. It's cold in here."

"I think my heater's broken. I'll have to call the manager in the morning."

"I'll start you a fire. You do have a fireplace, don't you?"

"Yes." They walked over to the fireplace just as the radio personality announced another slow ballad. "What's behind your back?"

Booth smiled, knowing it was the right time to give her her gift. Besides, he can't make a fire _and _hold onto it at the same time. He smiled and held it out for Brennan.

She took one look at it and crossed her arms, with one eyebrow shooting straight up.

"What?" Booth asked, laughing. "Would you rather have chocolate?"

"You talked to Angela, didn't you?"

"What? About what, Bones?"

After a beat, Brennan said, "You didn't... talk to Angela?"

"Only about the case."

"Oh." Then the smile reappeared. Of course Booth would know her that well. Daffodil, Daisy, Jupiter... potted plants. She reached out and took the little pink pot from Booth's hand. The little pot held a single Christmas cactus with a pink bow on it. "A cactus?"

"Low maintenance," Booth explained. "I figured with your job and travels that you could skip a few waterings and it won't just shrivel up on you."

"But... not flowers or chocolate?" Brennan asked, a little accusingly.

"Why would I get you something that will just die on you... or add to your untimely death," Booth said rather laughingly.

"And you _didn't_ talk to Angela?"

"No, Bones. Why?"

Brennan decided to let it drop. "Never mind."

Booth just smiled and squatted beside the fire place where he began to stack kindling and newspaper.

He looked up after the fire had finally caught, lighting up the room in flickering luminescence. He could still feel Brennan watching him. "What Bones?" He stood.

"What's his name?"

"What?" Booth asked.

"Oh come on, Booth. I know you as well as you apparently know me. And I know that you named the cactus." She smiled teasingly.

Booth sighed and took a step towards her. "Valentino."

"Wow. That's a good name, Booth."

"I figured it fit. Nice PJs by the way."

She'd nearly forgotten what she was wearing, "Oh. Angela bought these for me last year."

"They're cute, Bones," he said softly. His eyes wandered for a split second.

A second passed where they were just looking at one another. The tension had to be cut somehow.

"Thank... you..." She replied. "I'll--I'll just--" She sat the cactus on a nearby table as the radio switched tempo with a new ballad.

She turned around and Booth was there.

Was he hovering? "What?" She asked.

"Dance with me," he said in a low sexy voice.

"Huh?" She swallowed hard.

"Righteous Brothers, Bones. I'm pretty sure it's a sin not to ask a woman to dance to _Unchained Melody_."

"Booth, that's quite possibly the cheesiest song ever." She began to roll her eyes when she felt his hand slide down her sleeve and stop at her fingers.

"Dance with me, Bones." He smiled, then said in a sing-song voice, "Been a while."

It had indeed been a while. And it wasn't like they hadn't danced before. They'd danced before with no funny business. This was just like any other time.

Except this time she wanted him and he wanted her. A romantic melody was playing and the low light of the fire lit up the room. Other than that, nothing's changed.

"OK."

He walked her a few steps out, into the middle of the room and spun her into him.

She let one hand rest on his shoulder, he held her right hand.

_I've hungered for your touch..._

His own right hand slid up and settled on the small of her back, nearly taking her breath away. If he wasn't there to support her, it was quite possible that the spinning in her head would have taken her down.

Being so close to him was so inviting and warm and perfect... What was she thinking? They were _partners_. But she was also an anthropologist, and as an anthropologist, it was safe to say that her partner was drop-dead gorgeous and it was also safe to say that she loved feeling him pulling her closer, his hand caressing her lower back through her flannel pajamas. She loved the fact that he was barefoot and she was barefoot and in being so, he was much taller than she'd realized when she wore heels and he wore his own shoes.

_And time can do so much..._

How long had they been standing there? Neither had taken initiative to move. Instead, they both stood. Holding each other. The music had blurred, the lights had lowered. Why was it so hard to think? Was it because of his left hand whose fingers were basically having hand-sex with her hand, making slow circles in her palm, threading deeply between her fingers, making her want to throw him to the ground (in a good way), or was it because of the other hand that crept northward ever so slowly, or was it the fact that his warm breath was tickling the soft tendrils that curled against her neck. Every touch, though small, was also large. And all she wanted to do was let her fingers stroke his neck, let her lips touch his neck, touch his his lips, his chest. And for a fleeting second, she wondered what he would taste like if she ran her tongue along his neck. Oh. Self-control was becoming a fleeting thing.

_I need your love..._

That was it. It was time to stop whatever it was that they were doing.

She had rested her cheek against his, feeling his grow warm as hers had. She quickly pulled back to look into his eyes and discuss this logically. Whatever this was. Adrenaline, serotonin, dopamine, the fact that she hadn't had sex in twelve weeks, and that he smelled so dang sexy, spicy and so... so Booth...

Wrong thing to do. The moment she tried to look into his eyes was the moment their noses brushed and her heart began to speed up.

Booth had wanted to hold her in his arms for so long. What if he kissed her and she later found out about Payton? What if she thought that she was a rebound girl? But would he kick himself for turning down the opportunity to kiss his beautiful partner?

He resolved to himself that he would do the honorable thing and _not _kiss her. Although his lips were so close he could practically taste her. He'd be a gentleman.

"Booth," she whispered.

"Hmm?" he whispered back.

"Kiss me."

He didn't need it spelled out by a sky writer.

He closed the distance quickly. His lips met hers. Hers met his. From moment one, it was passionate. She slid both hands behind his neck. He took that opportunity to let both hands wander up her back, feeling every muscle through the soft cottony fabric. Was she not wearing a bra!?

That wasn't the best part, though. It was tasting her one more time, feeling her tongue entering his mouth without reservation, running across his tongue, sipping at his tongue, sucking, nibbling.

And for Brennan, if she had realized what an amazing kisser Seeley Booth was earlier, she would have tackled him back in 2005.

They finally broke the kiss, breathing heavily, faces flushed, hearts thumping, hormones flooding.

"Kiss me again," she muttered.

Booth just smiled, then he pulled her close, whispering, "G-d, I love you!" and kissed her again.

--

_Sorry to keep you waiting for that last chapter. I wasn't doing it on purpose. DD slept 4 hours last night. *yawn* Me being an insomniac PLUS dd not sleeping EQUALS Me need sleepy. ;)_

_Thank you all for reading!!! _

_I hope you all enjoy the new episodes of Bones coming up! Next Week Bones Is Back!_


End file.
